Monday, 1 April 2013

Giant woman

Sometimes when I feel my confidence recede, when feeling content in my skin seems just out of reach, I like to imagine myself as a giant woman, my legs longer, thicker than the oldest trees on the Earth, my head able to block out the moon. Gigantuan, yet graceful still. And all the people that influence my life, who pervade my thoughts, whether they wish to, or not, are miles and miles below me, the noise and pattern of their daily life, scarcely penetrating the pristine atmosphere I breathe in. And I'm so still and my heart so full of grace in my mammoth state that they notice me not, I am an anomaly of the landscape, and nothing more. Yet I know with one fluid motion I could squish a person or two with my big toe. End not their life, as this is a metaphorical state, but their presence in my mind. Their influence upon my heart. I have this power. And only this. Or I can shift my gaze, further afield, sweep my largest green eyes, across the globe, find a pretty spot and watch and learn, and not look back. So restful it can be in my giant body. My satellite viewing of my life, some emotional distance, until I'm ready to walk human sized again, towards my precarious, unpredictable, uncertain future. And be a little happier about it.

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